


Thrall

by For_That_Cotton_Candy



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 18:57:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8256788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/For_That_Cotton_Candy/pseuds/For_That_Cotton_Candy
Summary: "Am not! I am not thralled! I am immune to thralling! Once you’ve been thralled by the best you can never go back!” Xander huffed and then clapped one hand over his eyes, embarrassed that there was some still residual Dracula thrall after all these years.“The proper term is ‘enthralled,’” Angel said, coming up behind Xander and leaning lightly against his back. Xander stiffened and kept his hand over his eyes to avoid further thralling.“You’re not gonna make me eat bugs, are you?” he demanded.





	

“Thrall”  
BtVS/AtS Future Fic  
Set Five Years after “Not Fade Away”  
Spike/Angel/Xander  
PWP, pretty much.  
Adults Only

 

***

“Well, well, looky here. Thought I smelled somethin’ tasty.”

Xander stiffened at the ghost of cool breath against the back of his neck and crossed his arms resolutely. No. Nuh uh. No way. No shiveries and jelly legs and bending over at the drop of a hat, although he supposed if he _did_ drop his hat he’d _have_ to bend over at some point, and then he flailed mentally because he didn’t have a fucking hat so the point was moot, anyway. He shooed away the thoughts of bending over to pick up stupid hats he didn’t have and tried to be all business. He glared at Angel, who was seated behind his desk.

“What?” Angel said, scowling, giving Xander the standard Angel ‘what in the hell do you want _me_ to do about it?’ look.

“Get him off me,” Xander demanded, now squirming as Spike wrapped his arms around Xander from behind and began feeling him up. And down. And a little to the left, there, Spike, he thought, closing his eyes and swaying a little before remembering his vow of ‘no way’ and again started trying to wrench free of Spike’s grip.

“Aw, c’mon, love, didn’t you miss me?” Spike whispered, practically oozing, although oozing wasn’t necessarily the right word, Xander thought, evocative of things disgusting and pus-filled, radiating maybe, yes, Spike was practically radiating sex and promises of touchy feelies so good that the top of Xander’s head would blow off. Radiating and licking the side of Xander’s neck. Xander sighed and closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

“No. No missing. There was no missing done, not at all, get _off_ me!” Xander said, although there had been _some_ missing, but he’d decided these yearly interludes with Spike were unhealthy and unnatural and that it was time to try something sensible, like a real relationship with someone else, preferably a human being. He sighed, trying to pry Spike’s rather happy hand off his own beginning-to-get-happy crotch, his dick all happy with the touchy feelies despite the fact that he was trying to get it to think unhappy thoughts, like dead puppies. His dick could be ridiculously stupid sometimes. He glared again at Angel. “Little help, here?”

“Spike, quit fondling Xander,” Angel said absently, flipping through the paperwork on his desk. “We’re in the middle of a meeting.”

“Ah, that’s right, the annual meeting with the liaison from Slayerville, eh?” Spike said, snickering at Xander’s struggles and the fact that Xander’s happy crotch was getting even happier. “After we meet with the liaison, do we get to lay him, then?”

“Shut up and stop that and no!” Xander grumbled, still fighting. And blushing. He was too old to blush, dammit.

“Not what you said last year, pet,” Spike whispered, licking at Xander’s ear.

Xander shivered despite the ‘no shiveries’ vow. “I was drunk!”

“And the year before that? And the three years before . . .” 

“Drunk again! Never am I drinking around you guys again, somebody always ends up naked, usually multiple somebodies, what is _wrong_ with you, GETOFFMYDICKRIGHTNOW!” Xander bellowed and Spike laughed and shoved him away while Angel looked put-upon, reminding Xander, oddly, of Giles.

“Hey, leave _me_ out of the naked, _I_ never got naked,” Angel muttered, still thumbing through the paperwork and sounding somewhat bitter about the whole naked thing.

“I knew I always hated you less than Spike,” Xander said, pointing at Angel, who rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “For a while it was a toss-up, pretty much equal hate, but now? Big on the Spike hate and not so much with the Angel hate. Unless you start feeling me up or go all Angelus again and neither of those things is about to happen, right?”

Angel narrowed his eyes. “You never know,” he said, looking Xander up and down.

Xander blinked. “What?”

“Oh, my!” Spike said, looking at Angel and putting one hand to his chest melodramatically. “I do believe you’ve awoken the demon, Harris!”

“What?” Xander said again, starting to panic as Angel began to practically fuck him with his eyes. He fidgeted as his stupid happy crotch became even happier. Neither he nor his dick had any idea that Angel had such talented eyes, all brown and warm and giving him a blowjob from ten feet away . . . _dammit!_

“Awoken which demon? The demon demon or the feeling up demon? ‘Cause either way, stakes all around!” Xander spluttered, pointing at Spike and Angel in turn.

Spike hopped up on the corner of Angel’s desk and leered but Angel’s eyes dropped away, disinterested now, back to the paperwork and Xander felt a weird combination of relief and ‘Come on, do that some more! And harder!’

“I was kidding, Xander, I _do_ have a sense of humor in spite of the fact that you keep telling me I don’t,” Angel muttered, bitter about the sense of humor thing as well as the naked thing.

“You _don’t_ have a sense of humor, ponce,” Spike said to Angel and got a paperweight hard to the back of the head. “OW! See? Proves my point!” Angel scowled when Spike bounced the paperweight off his forehead and then pounced, and Xander stared as they proceeded to beat the hell out of each other, rolling around all over the floor and breaking furniture.

“Is it like this all the time? How in the hell do you guys ever get any work done?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Wesley said, walking past Xander and stepping over Spike and Angel to get to the filing cabinet, not giving them a second glance. 

“Right,” Xander said loudly over all the cursing and crashing going on. “You Watch, you run A.I., and Angel’s just a figurehead.”

“I am NOT a fucking _figurehead!”_ Angel bellowed, trying to crack the floor open with Spike’s face. “I’m the champion!”

“I just keep things running smoothly,” Wesley said, having found what he was looking for in the filing cabinet. “But I do believe figurehead to be a rather accurate term,” he whispered as he walked past Xander out of the office, smirking slightly.

“I HEARD THAT! VAMPIRE HEARING, YOU KNOW!” Angel yelled, on his back now and rolling just in time to avoid a paperweight to the gut.

“OF COURSE I KNOW, I’M A BLOODY WATCHER, YOU PONCE!” Wesley yelled back, laughing as he went into his own office and slamming the door.

“Whoa, ‘ponce?’ ‘Bloody?’” Xander said. “Somebody’s been spending a little too much quality time with Spike, huh?”

Angel leapt to his feet suddenly, looming over Xander and poking him in the chest. “Exactly! That’s it, exactly! There’s nothing worse than two Englishmen in L.A., it’s like, ‘hey, we’re all _English,_ let’s hang out and be all _English_ together and do everything we can to PISS ANGEL OFF!’ Wes used to be on MY side, you know,” Angel grumbled, pouting.

“That was until he got sick of your complete and utter lack of sense of humor, pet,” Spike said, still on the floor in an elegant sprawl. Angel kicked him.

“Right,” Spike sighed. “We done then? Who’s up for a drink?”

Xander and Angel both grabbed their coats and headed for the door.

***

“Was it _really_ necessary to leave me behind like that? I was almost in the car, you know. Left me rollin’ around on the bloody pavement,” Spike huffed, plopping down at the table next to Angel. “Rude.”

“I thought it was funny. On a scale of one to ten for funniness, like a million,” Xander said, grinning. “It was my idea, by the way.”

“Rude, was what it was. Bastards,” Spike grumbled, slapping his smokes on the table.

“You asked for it, dumbass,” Angel growled, looking around the bar and brooding fiercely.

Spike stared at him a moment then grinned. “Sounds like somebody’s had a couple of bottles of whiskey . . .”

“Three,” Xander interjected, downing his beer.

 _“Three_ bottles of whiskey,” Spike continued. “That’s not like you, pet. Lemme guess, you been gettin’ the Slayer update?”

“SHUT UP!” Angel bellowed and stalked off to the bar.

“Righty roo, blondie bear,” Xander said, pointing at Spike with his beer bottle.

“Oh, come off, isn’t anyone gonna let that one go?” Spike said, scowling.

“Nope,” Xander said, grinning, and then he jumped when Spike started fondling him under the table. “Stop it!”

“You stop with the blondie bear bit, I’ll stop this,” Spike said, stroking Xander expertly through his jeans, smirking when Xander was immediately hard and immediately blushing. “Unless, of course, you don’t want me to stop . . .”

Xander closed his eyes and sighed and waited just a couple of seconds longer than necessary before replying. “Fine. I’ll stop, you stop. Lots of stopping, stopping all over the place, like right _now.”_

Spike’s hand paused and one eyebrow quirked. “You sure?” he asked, then squeezed.

“GAH!” Xander barked, seeing shining, sparkly stars. “Yes, I’m sure, stop it, you son of a bitch!”

“Whatever you say, mate,” Spike said, smirking, hand falling away, and Xander sighed and willed the shiveries and the hard-on to go far, far away.

Angel returned and plunked two bottles of whiskey and a couple of bottles of beer down on the table forcefully and Xander could have sworn he heard wood splinter, then Angel sat and scowled and brooded and pouted.

Spike snorted, grabbing one of the bottles of whiskey and then turning to Xander. “This must mean she’s still with the soddin’ Immortal, then?” he asked, rolling his eyes.

“Yep,” Xander said, going for his fourth bottle of beer. “It’s kind of disgusting, actually. I _hate_ that guy. Oh, but he did buy me this supercool leather jacket, custom-made, one of a kind!” he said, grinning and gesturing at himself, and Angel and Spike looked at each other and sighed in unison.

“He got to you, didn’t he!” Spike said, pointing at Xander accusingly. “You _like_ the bastard! I bet you _love_ the bastard!”

“What? No! Okay, fine, I do. He’s just so . . . so . . .”

“Shut up!” Angel and Spike said simultaneously, both glaring.

“Dreamy. That’s the word. He’s dreamy,” Xander said, sighing and fluttering his eyelashes exaggeratedly. Vampire baiting, much more fun than being the actual bait. Kind of.

“SHUT UP!” Angel bellowed again and hunched over, huddling with his whiskey and stealing one of Spike’s cigarettes and lighting up.

Spike’s eyes widened and he turned to Xander. “Now you’ve done it. He’s off the deep end when he grabs the fags,” he said. He waited expectantly, smirking, but Xander was of an age now where he refused to giggle at Britishisms, for God’s sake he was practically British himself by now. Or so he told himself, until he started giggling. 

Angel sighed and rolled his eyes and took a long drag, squinting through the smoke and looking, Xander thought, somewhat to his dismay, rather cool. Angel could not be ‘cool,’ it was a ‘rool,’ it was in the _Xander Harris Book of Vampire Roolz_ he’d written in high school and still had stashed away somewhere. But there had probably been something in the book of _Roolz_ that involved not fucking the uncool vampires, and he’d broken that rool five years running now, thanks to stupid uncool Spike.

God, he was fucked up, he thought, still giggling at the ‘fag’ comment.

“You guys are like _so_ immature,” Angel grumbled, still smoking and, yeah, Xander thought, sighing in defeat, still looking cool, even while sounding like Harmony.

Spike grinned and looked at Xander. “Yeah, like _totally_ , ohmigodWHAT _EVER,”_ Spike said, tilting his head and mocking the Valley girl tone Angel’s voice had taken on and Xander started giggling again, uncontrollably.

Beer + Spike = Funny, he thought, and then he sighed. That’s how he’d gotten into this mess to begin with; beer and Spike coming on hard with the funny and then hitting below the belt, almost literally, with the ‘fuck me’ lips.

“Drink up,” Angel ordered, doing so himself. “I’m in a mood to let off some steam tonight, maybe find some demons to kill and then fuck both of you stupid.” 

Xander stared, mouth wide open in shock. No way, _major_ breakage of the _Roolz,_ Angel hate, Angel bad, no Angel fucking! Then he got a mental picture that had him sighing and shifting uncomfortably and trying to avoid Angel’s hard gaze.

Spike looked at Xander and waggled his eyebrows. “Best do what he says, love. It’ll be worth it, trust me,” he said, now obviously groping Angel who showed no reaction other than flinging one leg out wide to allow Spike easier access.

Something sparked down Xander’s spine and he sighed and threw back another beer. No vampire fucking, he told himself sternly. He could do this, he was strong, he had the _Roolz_ . . .

***

Two hours later Xander was draped all over Angel, arms around Angel's neck and slumped against his chest and staring into his eyes, listening intently as Angel regaled him with tales of the past few Apocalypses, not caring at all that Angel had slid one hand up the back of his shirt and was stroking the small of his back with roughened fingers. Actually, he was enjoying the stroking. It made him think of other stroking. The _Roolz_ had flown out the proverbial window and landed in a proverbial shredder somewhere, and Xander couldn’t have cared less. Angel was way too cool for _Roolz._

Angel got up to head back to the bar and Xander sighed in disappointment, watching him go, and Spike snorted and punched him hard on the shoulder.

“Somebody looks a little lovestruck,” Spike said, grinning. “I thought you’d have figured it out by now since it’s happened to you before.”

“Um, _ow,”_ Xander said, glaring and holding up one finger in a ‘don’t do that again’ gesture. “And, what now?”

“Angel. He’s gettin’ old,” Spike said.

 _“Getting_ old? Don’t you mean, ‘has been old for like hundreds of years now’?”

“What I’m sayin’, you git,” Spike whispered, leaning closer and smirking. “Is that he’s startin’ to get the thrall thing down. You’re bein’ thralled.”

Xander gasped. “No fucking way! I’ve been thralled before, I know what it’s like, this is not thralling!”

“What would you call it then, my little _butt monkey?”_ Spike asked, still smirking.

Xander spluttered. “Who told you about that? I’ll kill them and then kill you! And then I’ll find the Master Bater and fucking kill him, too, no thralling this time!”

“Soldier Boy told me,” Spike said, taking a swig of whiskey.

 _“Riley_ told you? Riley hated you! Why would he tell you anything?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Spike said, leering.

“Oh, God, no, I don’t,” Xander groaned, now with the uncomfortable image of Spike and Riley fucking frantically in Spike’s old crypt. “You slept with _Riley?”_

“You said you didn’t wanna know. Besides, I don’t suck and tell. But that’s not the point, pet, _you_ are bein’ thralled by Angel,” Spike said, point at Xander with his cigarette.

“Am not! I am not thralled! I am immune to thralling! Once you’ve been thralled by the best you can never go back!” Xander huffed and then clapped one hand over his eyes, embarrassed that there was some still residual Dracula thrall after all these years.

“The proper term is ‘enthralled,’” Angel said, coming up behind Xander and leaning lightly against his back. Xander stiffened and kept his hand over his eyes to avoid further thralling.

“You’re not gonna make me eat bugs, are you?” he demanded.

“Of course not. I’m not enthralling anybody,” Angel said softly, hand sliding again up the back of Xander’s shirt, sending an electric jolt through Xander’s body.

“Then what would you call it, love?” Spike asked, grinning.

Angel leaned down and put his mouth close to Xander’s ear. “Seduction,” he whispered, and Xander shuddered at the touch of cool breath against his skin. He didn’t know which was worse, thralling or seduction. Or better. This hadn’t been covered in the _Roolz._

Angel moved away, much to Xander’s thralled and/or seduced disappointment, downed the whiskey in one go and then dragged Spike across his lap and kissed him hard, and Xander watched in shocked fascination as Spike’s hands slid around Angel’s neck and he kissed him back, encouraging him with muffled moans and by tilting his head to the side and opening his mouth wider. Xander fidgeted and tugged at the crotch of his jeans and tried not to look but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the look of fierce hunger on Angel’s face and the way his tongue played against Spike’s, the way one large hand trailed down the length of Spike’s body to grope him, and when Spike’s hips bucked up against Angel’s hand, Xander’s hips hitched as well.

Angel pulled back. “This okay with you?” he asked, his eyes searching Spike’s face, and Xander was further shocked by the wide-eyed vulnerability there in Spike’s expression.

“Course, love,” Spike whispered, reaching up to touch Angel’s face and Angel kissed him again, more gently this time.

Suddenly Angel hauled Spike back upright, gave Xander a look that had him trembling, and then strode off again to the bar to pay the tab.

“Jesus,” Spike whispered, the look on his face now dark-eyed and pouty, a look that Xander was more familiar with than he was willing to admit. He turned to Xander and smiled lazily. “Now we’re in for it.”

“Uh, ‘we?’ No ‘we!’ That was _you,_ as in him and you, you two, no me there at all, no thrall, no seduction . . . GAH!” Angel had come up behind him and plastered himself to Xander’s back, his mouth ghosting along Xander’s neck, the hand that had just been stroking Spike now stroking Xander. 

_“Fuck!_ Xander whispered, stunned by the sudden roar he felt in his blood, eyes closing and hips shifting against Angel’s hand in spite of himself.

“Exactly,” Spike said, smirking.

“Let’s go,” Angel growled in Xander’s ear and he dragged the both of them out by their shirt collars.

***

Angel tossed Spike the keys and shoved a stunned Xander into the backseat, sliding in beside him and then leaning back, dragging Xander on top of him.

“Whoa, hey! Stop with the thralling or seduction or whatever!” Xander said, struggling as Angel shifted underneath him until they were crotch to crotch, Xander between his thighs and his hands on Xander’s ass, pulling him close. 

“God,” Xander muttered, head dropping to Angel’s shoulder at the feel Angel’s hard cock rubbing slightly against his own through their clothes.

“We can’t _do_ this! DIRTYBADWRONG! What about Buff-mmmmf!” Xander looked at Angel wide-eyed over the hand Angel had clapped over his mouth.

“Don’t say it. Moving on,” he said, voice low and hard.

“Bout bloody time!” Spike said cheerfully from the front seat. “Didn’t we make that decision five years ago or so?”

“Shut up and drive,” Angel muttered and wrapped his hands around Xander’s neck and kissed him, and Xander tasted the familiar taste of Spike and then was overwhelmed by the taste that was all Angel, the tongue that tangled so expertly with Spike’s now sliding wetly against his own, wrong wrong wrong, he thought, oh shit, so why was he now sticking his own tongue into Angel’s mouth and humping up against him, and rubbing just a little harder each time so Angel would make that low growl from deep in his throat and thrust his hands in Xander’s hair and yank just hard enough for Xander to want it yanked _harder_ , and suddenly all sense and sensibility departed and everything was Angel, touching him and tasting him and doing everything possible to make him as crazy as Xander felt.

 _“God,”_ Angel muttered, hands moving from Xander’s hair to his ass, kneading roughly while Xander panted against Angel’s neck, breathless and head swimming. “I’ve wondered what it would be like, Xander.”

“Quite nice,” Spike yelled from the front seat as he parked in front of the Hyperion and was ignored.

Angel grabbed Xander by the chin and forced him to meet his eyes. “Xander?” he asked, voice hoarse and eyes black.

Xander breathed deeply and swallowed. “God, yes,” he whispered and something in Angel’s eyes shifted and suddenly Xander didn’t think he could wait until they made it up to Angel’s room.

***

Gunn looked up and snorted as Angel burst through the doors of the Hyperion, dragging a frazzled and gaping Xander with him up the stairs with Spike grinning like a madman and bounding up behind them.

“Looks like Angel got a ticket to the annual FuckFest,” Gunn said, grinning at Wesley. “Good for him.”

“For God’s sake, Gunn, there are ladies present,” Wesley sighed and jerking his head in Illyria’s direction. “Language.”

Gunn rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be absurd, Wesley,” Illyria said. “You say ‘fuck’ often, especially when we are in bed and you are touching my . . .”

Wesley suddenly had the worst and loudest fit of coughing ever to hit a man in the history of the world and Gunn fell of the sofa laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.

***

Xander groaned, burying his face in Spike’s neck and biting hard, the fingers that had been sliding in and out of him slowly for what seemed like hours now driving him absolutely insane, making it impossible to breathe.

“Anytime now,” he muttered, shoving back with his hips.

“Just want to make sure you’re ready . . .” Angel’s fingers still moved, thrust deeply, circled, swirled, making him see stars, and Xander gritted his teeth. Spike smiled up at Xander lazily and reached down to stroke him.

“Nonono, don’t touch me,” Xander panted. “I know how this goes, I wanna last at least half as long as you guys.” Spike lifted his eyebrows. “Fine, a quarter as long, whatever, _fuck,_ Angel, you’re _killing_ me . . .”

Spike grinned and reached up to kiss him as Angel continued to work Xander with his fingers. “God,” Xander whispered before kissing Spike hungrily. “You are _so_ not helping.”

Spike rolled from underneath him and Xander grabbed at him and groaned in protest. “No, love,” he said, grinning. “Age before beauty.” He moved out of Xander’s line of sight and apparently did something to Angel which caused a deep groan and a rough jerk of his fingers within Xander, and Xander closed his eyes and moaned before pulling away and turning around, shoving a surprised Angel on to his back and crawling up the length of his body to kiss him deeply. “Love that,” Xander whispered, pulling back slightly and staring into Angel’s darkened eyes. “Good kisser,” he said before kissing Angel again, and this time Angel’s mouth was hungry and rough, nipping sharply at Xander’s mouth until Xander broke away, sliding down the length of Angel’s body and taking his cock in his mouth.

 _“Jesus,”_ Angel hissed, hands in Xander’s hair and pulling it just hard enough, and then Xander felt Spike’s familiar hands and mouth along the length of his back and neck and he moaned, feeling Angel’s hips jerk slightly in response. 

_“God,_ Xander,” Angel whispered and Xander looked up at him, locking eyes with him, and he wondered faintly how he’d missed the fact that Angel was so damned beautiful all these years. Then his hair was being pulled harder and he was pushed on to his back, legs high against Angel’s shoulders and Angel’s fists planted into the mattress on either side of his head. “You ready?” Angel whispered against his mouth.

“God, yes,” Xander murmured, tongue darting out to swipe along Angel’s lips. “Fuck me already.” And then he moaned as Angel entered him slowly, causing a slight burn that eased off quickly, and then he was being fucked quite thoroughly with long, deep, maddeningly slow strokes. “Oh, _God,”_ Xander groaned. “Harder, Angel . . .”

Angel reared back, holding Xander’s legs high, and began thrusting harder and faster. _“Jesus Christ,_ Xander . . .” he muttered, jaw clenching, and Xander arched up high in response to Angel’s movements, panting, body on fire and sparking as Angel moved, then he reached out for Spike who had been watching through darkened eyes, smiling slightly, and Spike leaned in to kiss Xander soundly and to stroke him in time to Angel’s movements.

 _“Fuck,”_ Xander muttered against Spike’s lips, head swimming and eyes closing just before he came. “I _am_ thralled . . .” Then the world fell away.

***

“God,” Angel mumbled against Xander’s neck.

“I know,” Spike said, head popping up over Angel’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around Angel’s chest. “Can we keep him, Daddy?”

“Stop calling me that, it’s weird,” Angel grumbled, but when he raised his head to look at Xander he was smiling, and Xander blinked in surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Angel smile. 

Xander sighed and closed his eyes. “Quit thralling me, you’re making me want to ask Giles for a transfer,” he said. “Wrong, wrong, wrong.”

“I’m _not_ enthralling . . . okay, maybe a little bit there at the end. Sorry,” Angel said, not sounding sorry at all, and when Xander opened his eyes Angel was actually grinning, as was Spike.

“Maybe I could just . . . you know, stay a couple of more days,” Xander said grudgingly, not willing to give up all the cool, heavy heat that had him pinned to the bed.

“Or a couple of weeks,” Angel said intently.

“Or a couple of weeks,” Xander repeated without thinking, then glared. “No more of that or I’m outta here right now! And I swear to God if there’s any bug eating it’s stakes all around!”

Now Angel actually laughed and rolled off him, turning his attention to Spike, and Xander watched in sleepy-eyed fascination at the way they could be so fierce and so gentle at the same time.

He sighed. The _Roolz_ were out the window and the thrall was on. He was _so_ fucked. So he fell asleep grinning, his face smashed up against Angel’s back and Spike’s arm slung around his waist.

The _Roolz_ had never done him any good, anyway, and thralls were vastly underrated.

***

End


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